Daisy Who?
by AlyssWolf
Summary: Nick is disturbed by his feelings for the mysterious and grand man who throws extravagant parties next door. Nick could never dream that the very man feels the same. (It's Gatsby's first time with a man, but not Nick's!)


I saw him, staring through the top window of his mansion, gazing out at that flashing green light which beckoned him every night to the pier. I glanced at the clock on the wall and peered again more intently this time at my mysterious neighbor. I say mysterious because even though we've known each other now for almost the whole summer, there is still a piece of him which is unreachable, something to gaze at from a distance in wonder and awe. It was getting reasonably dark, reasonably enough for Gatsby to make the daily journey down to the end of his dock; it was definitely late enough. 11:06. Not that I minded staring at him in all of his majesty, for hours on end. I swallowed and shook my head. Foolish.

I decided to take one last look at my friend before I would retire to bed when I noticed he had vanished from the window completely. I felt an inexplicable pang in my chest. So he had gone to pine after her after all….Suddenly the phone rang and I practically flew to the table on which it rested, knocking my knee painfully against the corner of the coffee table, causing me to trip and collide with the floor. But I ignored the pain as I lunged up to the phone to reach it before the final ring echoed throughout the night.

I tried to keep the familiarity and urgency in my voice hidden as thoroughly as possible as I answered. "Yes, hello to whom may I be speaking?" As if I didn't already know full well who was calling.

"Nick, old sport! I know it's pretty late, but would you care to come over?" My heart lurched in my chest and I took a moment to calm myself before responding. "Old sport?"

"Y-yes, sorry, of course I would love to come over!" I could practically hear Gatsby smile into the phone.

"See you soon then."

I soon found myself breathlessly waiting at the door to the fantastic mansion of Gatsby's, hating myself for agreeing so readily to come over, despising myself for the way my heart fluttered instantly as he opened the door, his eyes glowing and smile stretched wide across his face.

"Sorry for inviting you over at this hour, old sport. I do hope I'm not troubling you." Warmth spread through me as I recognized the sincerity in his eyes. Directed right at me. He had invited me over instead of going down by the water to follow the illuminated trail of Daisy's green light. Whatever this little get together was, it was for me, not her at all.

"No not at all, I was actually bored and looking for something to do." Gatsby chuckled and lead me towards the kitchen.

"Well, how about a drink then?"

As we sipped from our glasses, I felt an overwhelming heat grab a hold of me, causing me to question my own mind and tugging me closer to the blonde man who was grinning ever so close beside me. I must have realized sometime through my foggy consciousness that Gatsby was almost as drunk as I was: our conversation became hushed and slurred as he scooted over on the couch so his side pressed into mine.

I could hardly focus on what he was saying through the mixture of lust and self-loathing, though from the few words I picked out I gathered that he was giving a lousy attempt to justify calling me over to his house so late.

"...I feel sort of strange old sport, and I was wondering if you could help me out...source of it…" One look at Gatsby told that he was utterly confused; the usual look in his eyes was replaced with one of a numerous amount of conflicting emotions. I reached over and patted his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Jay It's probably-" Gatsby frowned and leaned in closer to me, head tilted to the side, as if inspecting me.

"There you go again, saying my name like that. Drawing it out." I took a sharp breath as he leaned in further, the heat from his face pouring onto mine. "I feel...yet I'm not sure…" He cast his gaze away before whispering, "I'm ashamed of the way I feel Nick." I watched in shock as he suddenly covered his face with his hands. In the haze I attempted to comfort him once more, my feelings now unbridled and seeping out of me through every pore. My intoxication allowed me to forget the shame, the sin of my feelings, and they shone through in this moment.

"Jay. I know how you feel". I drew a blank as to the English language before finally spitting out abruptly, "You're beautiful."

Gatsby suddenly tensed under my consoling hand and drew in a shaky breath before lunging at me and grabbing my face forcefully. He stared into my eyes with that searching expression again before pressing his lips furiously into my mouth, drawing out the kiss and parting my lips, allowing his tongue to sweep my mouth. I closed my eyes and leaned into him, bringing my arms up to wrap around his back as I made a high pitched mewl.

"Nick...you feel this way too?" I kissed him again in response and we fell to the floor in a moaning, drunken mess. In this moment I was immeasurably glad for this situation, for this chance, for the drinks. The moment that I had bashed myself for dreaming of for so long. The bright feeling of Gatsby's body pressing into my own was well worth the guilt and shame I would undeniably feel in the morning.

"Do you...want to take this upstairs?" I asked breathlessly. Gatsby flashed me a dumbfounded expression up from the floor.

"Have you done this type of thing with a man before?" I saw the blush spread across his face as I nodded impatiently, itching to get this beautiful man upstairs. He cleared his throat before we stumbled up the staircase, Gatsby leaning on me the whole journey before crashing onto his bed. I could feel the effects of the liquor fading away, yet I was shocked to realize that I didn't care, that I wanted the mysterious Jay Gatsby and that I wanted him now.

I tossed off my jacket and straddled him in one swift motion enjoying the shades of red continuing to dust the taller man's face in increasingly darker hues. He avoided my gaze out of embarrassment as we grinded together and I took advantage of the moment to suck on his neck.

"N-nick…" My stomach flipped and I kissed him, heart fluttering as he moaned softly into my mouth. My shirt was somehow cast aside and in a blur of color Gatsby was stripped of everything aside from his boxers. I gazed across his toned body filled to the brim with lust before pausing to crack a grin at his fearful expression. It was that of a child. "I don't know what to do….old sport…" he trailed off as his face grew darker and his eyes glazed over as he felt my hand slip past his stomach. I kissed the side of his mouth and drew my hands in lazy circles inside of his boxers, eliciting a whine from the older man's mouth.

"Just feel your way through." I whispered low against his ear. He reached into my pants.

"If you'll forgive me, I'm bound to make a mistake." I blushed at his persistent modesty and gentleness, even when on edge. As he swirled his hands I dragged his boxers off and he followed suit with mine, and soon I had him firmly pressed into the bed, mashing our mouths together and pushing up against his stomach. Since I gathered it was his first time with a man, I somehow willed myself to refrain from getting inside him, instead resolving to get him off with touch only.

"Just like we all do, only It's with me this time." I didn't hear his response as he suddenly jerked his hand down and I nearly collapsed on top of him. I rubbed harder and drew my tongue down his writhing body, almost feeling at fault for making this pure man a part of my selfish whims.

"Why'd you stop, Niiick?" Gatsby groaned and in an instant my concerns vanished without a trace. He took advantage of my hesitation to kiss me and run his tongue over my bottom lip. Then he pulled me closer and slithered lower to swirl his tongue around my nipple. I moaned and ignored Gatsby's shock as I ravenously drew his index finger into my mouth and sucked. When I drew off, I watched as Gatsby gazed at me in wonder tracking the string of saliva that trailed off of his finger. He reached up to caress my face and then blushed as he took my hand close to his mouth and made sure to watch my eyes as he took it into his mouth. The whole thing was oddly amusing, as he donned the face of someone experiencing the pleasures and mysteries of life for the first time. Then suddenly his eyes flashed and he inspected my finger.

"You're hurt." he stated quietly before taking my bruised finger back into his mouth more gently this time and sucked.

"I hurt it when I went to get your call earlier." Gatsby rutted into me and grabbed my back.

"I'll make it up to you." He suddenly took control and I moaned as I met my release, the blonde sucking on my throat. I wasn't about to lose my dignity and quickly got him off as he groaned my name. As we lay wrapped in the sheets pressed together late into the night, I found myself filled with an overwhelming sense of pride and well-being. Yet something still bothered me.

"Why didn't you go out to look at Daisy's light?" Gatsby held me closer and kissed the side of my face.

"Daisy who?"


End file.
